


Villain Dating Tips - the Beginning

by forgetmenotjimmy



Series: Supervillain Dating Tips [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Kidnapping, M/M, villain!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had just needed a temporary hostage to escape from the cops but there was something about the man he'd taken that made him want to keep hold of him just a little longer.</p>
<p>Chinese translation available here: http://www.movietvslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=160381&highlight=%B6%DC%CC%FA&mobile=2<br/>ID and password in the comments</p>
            </blockquote>





	Villain Dating Tips - the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a short fic of Steve (the misunderstood villain) kidnapping Tony. The main story details more kidnappings and the furthering of the relationship but I wanted to preserve this little snapshot as the true beginning of the story and a cute interaction of the characters. These scenes do feature in the bigger fic but the overall tone of it is a little darker and sadder. For those of you reading the big fic, I'm so sorry for the long pauses between updates! I haven't finished the next chronological part but with I have polished some of the previous parts and added some bonus Steve/Bruce interactions in the meantime.  
> :D

“Oh you’re awake! Here, you look famished!” Well, there were worse ways to wake up. Way worse. Tony groaned and blinked again, trying to understand what was happening. He was lying down on a lumpy couch looking at someone’s pants, the pants had a nice voice, deep but not hard; he sat up carefully and then he was staring down at a tray full of what seemed to be a cooked breakfast, being placed on his lap by…oh yeah! The bastard who’d kidnapped him. He didn’t speak, just stared between the tray and the super villain who’d…cooked him breakfast? Were those pancakes? “It’s not poisoned.” The masked man spoke again, the slightest bit of hurt creeping into his tone.

“Er, well excuse me, I haven’t had the best experience with kidnappers.” His ‘kidnapper’ visibly winced at the term, which was impressive since he was still wearing his face mask, though he’d changed into more casual clothes (still all black, just sweats and a T-shirt instead of his previous ninja get up). He had really nice biceps, Tony noticed randomly. Okay, not randomly.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Had to get away from all the…” He formed guns with his fingers before waving his hand in a ‘you know’ gesture, his stance hunched in a little, giving off major awkward vibes. Still groggy from being knocked out and completely thrown off by the apology from the villain that had clocked him one in the first place, Tony blinked several times and as his kidnapper fumbled for words, he quickly scanned his surroundings. It looked like a normal apartment more than a…dungeon or cave or something. Open plan kitchen and living room, brightly painted walls, some paintings hanging up, nice furnishings, no crazy torture devices or larger shark tanks. It was almost disappointing. All the hysterical and fatalistic speculation in the press about this guy, The Phantom they’d named him, was woefully off the mark. Snarky comments about the ‘lair’ bubbled up to his tongue but he pushed them down for now, more important things to get out of the way first.

“Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you just didn’t dump me in a ditch or river or something when you’d gotten away instead of…this!” Sometimes Tony completely understood why Pepper would get frustrated at his complete lack of self-preservation instinct, not a lot, but sometimes. Also, he was totally going to agree with Pepper the next time she insisted on micro-chipping him. The Phantom froze, he appeared taken aback.

“I wouldn’t do that!” His voice suddenly sounded a lot younger; he seemed to have been shocked into his real identity, even underneath his mask. “Besides, you looked underfed so I thought I’d…I mean didn’t mean to hit you so hard, I jus-” He cut himself off, obviously more than a little embarrassed and how is this Tony’s life that he gets snatched by a villain who decides he wants to look after him so cooks him an apology breakfast?

“Right…” He stretched out the word, looking down again at the tray, warm against his knees. Now that food was right in front of him, he was very hungry, so who was he to turn his nose up? As he took his first bite of bagel, his mind supplied him with faint reminders of poisons or knock-out drugs but… It was so flavorful and he was so hungry and he had just been unconscious five seconds ago so what would be the point of putting a roofie in the food? Seemingly satisfied that he was eating, the Phantom relaxed a little and scurried off a little way away to the kitchen, cleaning up. Tony ate ravenously, finishing everything, even the little pieces of fruit on the side of the plate. It wasn’t until he’d lent back on the couch, full and a bit drowsy that Tony realised he wasn’t restrained in anyway. Looking around again, he saw multiple exits, even an open window for goodness sake, and the blinds weren’t even drawn! Didn’t this guy know anything about hostage situations? He’d even given Tony a relatively sharp knife to cut his pancakes with! He was obviously a beginner. Tony was half-tempted to give him some tips but stopped himself just in time. Maybe aside from being as fast and untrackable as a ghost, he had the ability to get people to bow to his will, hypnotised by his disarming charm… or maybe he was just a secret dork? Tony automatically reached for his phone but found it missing. Frowning, he checked every pocket and looked around the surfaces of the apartment, well, maybe this guy wasn’t a total amateur, just really confident? Anyway, it didn’t matter because JARVIS was tracking his position as he sat there-

Then he remembered that he’d dropped it in the shootout. Damn! Managing to keep his cursing internal, he looked around some more, keeping an eye on the position of his kidnapper as he scanned the room more thoroughly. The furniture didn’t look expensive but wasn’t flimsy either, the coach was quite nice, with a tasteful throw over it and the overall décor was a bit boring but not ugly-boring. He couldn’t spot any knick-knacks or photos anywhere, just some papers on a desk by the window, too far away to read. There were, however, several paintings on the walls. One of them caught his eye. He hadn’t seen this particular one before, but he recognised the style. Pepper had bought one from what must have been the same artist recently, going on about the soft lines, warmth and love poured into every stroke of the landscape which included Stark Tower in the distance. This painting was of a view of the Empire State Building and it gave Tony the same feeling of warmth.

“Ok, so you can’t be all that evil if you have a Brooklyn.” He commented as the Phantom came over; he stopped as if startled by his comment. He glanced at the painting that Tony had pointed at distractedly before turning back, sounding mildly interested as he asked.

“Oh, you know him?” Tony nodded, wondering if this would become useful, possibly life-saving information; every super villain has their soft spots… Well…some anyway.

“Yeah Pep got one for the collection. Er, I think it was called: ‘Sunset on Saint Catherine’s’?”

“Saint Claire’s,” his kidnapper corrected him in a way that implied that it was automatic, “you have a big collection?”

“Eh, dunno, maybe? Pepper handles that kind of stuff, I just pay for it. Well not really, she just bills them to…” Tony suddenly became aware of his expensive suit and flashy watch as well as his missing wallet – not that there was actual money in it, just his cards and some scribblings on napkins or scraps of paper – and suddenly realised the real reason he had been kept. Almost disappointed at this predictability, he bit out.

“Stark Industries does not negotiate with terrorists, kidnappers or ghosts who make excellent pancakes.” The mask shouldn’t have allowed for a lot of expression, but somehow confusion emanated from the villain.

“Sorry?” Tony blinked. Wow, this guys was really clueless…hey! Correlating all the data he’d collected on this guy so far and running it with his reaction, he felt his mouth fall open a little.

“Woah, wait a second. You don’t know who I am?” There was a small pause and an awkward shuffling.

“No, sorry, should I?” Tony didn’t answer immediately, genuinely stunned that this so-called villain didn’t…didn’t even know who he _was_!  He grappled with the concept for a full two minutes before the ‘super villain’ went on hesitantly. “I mean, when I saw you…I…it’s just that you reminded me of…never mind.” Ignoring the little near-revelation, Tony couldn’t contain his disbelief.

“You literally accidentally kidnapped me and then decided to feed me?” The Phantom nodded and Tony tried not to burst out laughing. He didn’t want to look crazy but this whole situation did have him feeling a little unhinged. Swallowing his manic mirth down, he softened his shoulders, quirked his eyebrows and changed tack. “So…if you’re not ransoming me, what is it that you’re looking for stud?” There was a fine form under all that black after all. To his further confusion, his advance was met with embarrassment.

“N-nothing! I-I don’t w- don’t want anything, I was just…concerned.” Half amused, half worried that this guy would go all ‘Misery’ on him, Tony decided that he was going to listen to the tiny Pepper voice yelling at him in his head and get out of there. Putting the tray on the coach he stood up carefully, trying not to startle the black-clad wanna-be ninja.

“So as nice as this is, I should-” He motioned to the door and for a tense few seconds the Phantom didn’t respond, just looking at him… Maybe, the mask hid his eyes so it was hard to tell exactly where he was looking. Then he just started as if startled and nodded.

“Right. Erm. Wait a minute. I just…” He trailed off as he shuffled over to the kitchen table and retrieved something. Weighing up staying to see what his parting gift would be and making a break for it, Tony shifted on his feet. But his kidnapper just held up a blindfold, apologetic as he explained. “So you can’t lead anyone to me.” Cautious but knowing he has no real choice, Tony put on a brave face and a made a quip.

“Well sugar if I knew you were into this stuff…” It seemed that the villain was acclimatising to his quips, however, because instead of becoming flustered he just snorted almost shyly and pushed the silk – nice! – material into the billionaire’s hands. Hesitantly, Tony took it and put it on, throat dry. Enveloped in darkness, his other senses heightened; the firm hands on his face adjusting the blindfold, the puff of air on his forehead from the other man and the heat. Was he imagining that heat coming off the other body in front of his?  He held back a shiver, of all the inappropriate responses to a situation like this, getting aroused is definitely up there. A hand took his, he could feel callouses on the fingers…hadn’t his captor been wearing gloves? Tony couldn’t remember. His head felt a little muddled as he was lead gently out of the apartment. He was silent for a few minutes as they went down some stairs slowly, wasn’t it bright daylight? Wouldn’t anyone see them? They kept on going, not glacially slowly but not at a pace that worried him. It didn’t escape him how bizarre the immediate trust he had in the Phantom was. Under an hour of interaction and he was already letting himself be lead through an unknown location. Never let it be said that Tony Stark couldn’t make accurate judgements of character quickly, it was just that even this was a bit soon to be so vulnerable in the care of a stranger. And a so-called ‘supervillain’ at that! Despite himself, he lost track of the time spent blinded and forgetting to make quips, all Tony had in his consciousness was the weight and pull of that hand, warm skin against his as the sounds of life grew around them. He could hear good old New York traffic now, though faintly, where exactly was this place? They walked a bit further, the hand in his squeezed once and then suddenly there was light.

Blinking stupidly trying to adjust, he turned around, trying to see his kidnapper but he was completely alone, blindfold and all. After a few more moments of scanning the street for a ghost, now he fully appreciated the choice of name, he registered a weight in his back pocket and discovered his wallet in there. Wow, magic fingers indeed! This whole morning had been throwing Tony in loops; he wasn’t used to not being in control and suddenly he’d been kidnapped, fed and then reverse-pickpocketed in a flash. Still mourning the loss of his phone and line to JARVIS, Tony looked around and eventually found a landmark. Reluctantly, he began walking to the Tower, resolving that the first order of business when he got back was to do some research. Next time he’d be ready.

 

…

_Tony Stark. Tony- Tony Stark. Anthony Edward Stark._

Steve stood stock still on the pavement, mouth hanging open slightly as he stared stupidly at the name under the picture in the paper again and again. Several thoughts flashed through his mind but the loudest and most crazed was probably: _well, he did seem familiar!_ Oh, oh wow! What the hell? His mind stuttered under the weight of the realisation. People began jostling past him in the mid-morning bustle so he forced himself to continue hobbling along back to his apartment – hobbling: because it amused him to disguise himself as a 90 year old man when in public. He couldn’t exactly walk around like normal with the General’s division still looking for him and after a lot of consideration he’d been darkly amused with changing his appearance to match his true age. Even stooping he couldn’t reduce his height by much and he didn’t have the training or patience to use detailed prosthetics so he used a bowler hat, scarf and gloves to cover his face and hands. Coupled with a long trench coat, walking stick and shuffling gait, these elements were all he needed to pass by unnoticed on the streets. It was New York, no one ever had the time to notice the faults in disguises of passers-by. He hoped anyway, he sometimes would get pinpricks on the back of his neck, sure he was being watched, but those feelings had never come to anything. Yet.

He reached his apartment building, heart racing and body struggling to keep up his imitation of a nearly dead man as wild thoughts battered each other in his head, vying for his attention. Entering his apartment, he closed and locked the door, resisting the urge to slump against it and slide sightlessly to the floor. Thankfully he’d taken his hostage – Tony Stark! – to his back-up apartment and he’d already decided to avoid it for a while after leaving the poor man untied and un-blind-folded in it. He knew there was a chance it would be discovered, high chance now that he’d found out that a genius worth a lot of money had been exposed to it, but he’d made sure to leave nothing incriminating in it and he’d only ever entered it through the fire escape, the landlord and residents lead to believe whatever they could think of to explain the lack of appearance. Heck, whatever wild theories they could spin to any inquiries would be a plus, right? Breathing in deeply he immediately sank into one of the kitchen chairs, still clutching the paper in one tight fist. He laid it out on the table, his hands smoothing over the creases restlessly.

Tony Stark.

_Howard’s_ son.

Howard’s _son._

Wow. Just. Oh.

For several minutes he stared sightlessly into space, memories flooding in: huge, big goggles, a devilish grin, fiery brown eyes and that bark of a laugh, rarer as the War dragged on but still sharp and amused. _Howard had a kid? No wait, Howard got married?!_ It was a lot to process. Admittedly Steve should have done more thorough research on his old friends, but when he’d first been able to settle down without fear of discovery, he’d only confirmed what he already knew in his gut, they were all dead. Slowly, ever so slowly he managed to uncurl his fist and spread the paper out on the table. Leaning back in his chair, he went over it in his head. _Tony Stark: Billionaire Inventor, Ladies Man and Reformed Weapons Manufacturer_. How had he missed this?

When he’d escaped the security guards only to find his hostage still unconscious, he’d been unable to deposit him somewhere safe to be discovered and more than that, unwilling. There had been something about that face that he couldn’t turn away from. Noticing that he was quite light for a man of his height and build, Steve had decided to try to make up for the ordeal with breakfast and some TLC. He’d carefully deposited his charge on the couch, quickly changed, making sure to hide the flash drive and anything else incriminating in the shoulder bag he planned on taking with him when they left, couldn’t take any chances the apartment wouldn’t be searched. Grimacing as he glanced at the unconscious man, he wondered how a simple snatch and grab of a flash drive from a scientist could have landed him with an underfed hostage who reminded him a lot of- _No. Stop it. Remember your mission. Just feed the guy, let him go and get the drive to Bruce._ He briefly cursed that he didn’t have any painkillers – drugs of any kind had little to no effect on him – and didn’t want to risk going out to get some and leave the man behind. So he’d settled for propping up the cushions on the couch and making sure he was comfortable before busying himself with breakfast. His heart was still pumping hard, even though he should have recovered from the escape immediately after the cops were out of sight. The exchange between the two when the man had woken had only done more to stir up lost memories and it’d been with reluctance and relief that he’d safely deposited the blindfolded man on the street and slipped away. He’d collected his bike from its hiding place and ridden the rest of the day and through the night to drop off the package with one of his associates who would take it to Bruce. Steve didn’t blame the doctor for staying out of the US altogether given their mutual enemy. When Steve had returned to his apartment in the early hours of the morning, he’d slept for a bit, mind still occupied with that intriguing man.

Snapping up from his chair, Steve quickly removed all of his ‘disguise’ and dug out his beat-up laptop: he needed to know more. Very soon his mind was flooded with information: genius inventor as a child, graduated from MIT ridiculously young, lost his parents not soon after inheriting a powerful international company manufacturing weapons until- _Oh God._ Steve gulped, guilt welling up in him as he read about Tony’s kidnapping in the Middle East. _Oh God, was that what Stark had meant when he’d said ‘bad experiences with kidnappers’?_ Useless, whilst the media did offer some facts, he didn’t know how many were accurate and he sensed something suspect about the recent death of Obadiah Stane. More, he needed to know more.

He needed to see Tony again. Twisting his lip, Steve leant back in his chair, considering. There was no way he could approach the man as himself or indeed in a ‘disguise’, he didn’t have the talent for that kind of espionage nor the patience to build up the persona needed to get some time alone with a billionaire genius. Staring at the photograph of the enigma on the computer screen, Steve felt an incredulous smile slowly spreading across his face. Was he really considering…? Could he even…? Full-on grinning he gave a little laugh. Yes, he was. He actually was.

The Phantom was going to kidnap Tony Stark again.


End file.
